


I Really Lilac You

by orphan_account



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: AU, First Kiss, Fluff, M/M, Tattoos, florist, flower shop, pastel!dan, punk!phil, shy!Phil, tattooist
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-02
Updated: 2015-05-02
Packaged: 2018-03-28 18:00:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3864385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><b>Prompt:</b>A florist/tattoo au where phils the shy/flustered tattoo artist that tries so hard to romance the hot pastel florist across the street - by <a href="http://earthbound-howell.tumblr.com">earthbound-howell</a> and <a href="http://crivaiir.tumblr.com">crivaiir </a></p><p>Phil nearly presses his face to the window, the cold material fogging over with his warm breath. His vision is slightly obscured by the obnoxiously large plastic letters on the glass, but it doesn’t deter him from staring past them. He hopes the new owner’s as nice as Katie, the previous owner of the store and his best friend.</p><p>He licks over his snakebites with his tongue and sucks his lips into his mouth, nibbling anxiously on them - a bad habit that led to painfully dry and chapped lips. The truck seems to move too slow as it backs into a parking spot, concealing the brightly coloured flower shop behind it. God he hopes the florist would be as colourful as their flower shop.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Really Lilac You

**Author's Note:**

> Hey floops! I finally finished this hope you're proud of me <3 this is so entirely innocent its gonna make you puke. i swear ill write smut… some time… in like 50 years…
> 
>  **EDIT:** SOMEONE DREW SOMETHING FOR THIS???? AND IT’S SO GOOD?? YOU CAN FIND IT [HERE PLEASE LOOK AT IT](lunaticmoondreams.tumblr.com/post/144129091967/i-made-this-based-on-the-phanfic-i-really-lilac)

Phil nearly presses his face to the window, the cold material fogging over with his warm breath. His vision is slightly obscured by the obnoxiously large plastic letters on the glass, but it doesn’t deter him from staring past them. He hopes the new owner’s as nice as Katie, the previous owner of the store and his best friend.

He licks over his snakebites with his tongue and sucks his lips into his mouth, nibbling anxiously on them - a bad habit that led to painfully dry and chapped lips. The truck seems to move too slow as it backs into a parking spot, concealing the brightly coloured flower shop behind it. God he hopes the florist would be as colourful as their flower shop.

He watches impatiently as the truck’s tailgate drops, hoping to catch a glimpse of the florist, but the only person in sight remains the bulky truck driver. He jumps in his seat as someone clears their throat behind him, painfully bumping his knee against the windowsill. He didn’t even hear the bell ring,  _dammit_.

Casting one last glance out the window, he turns away, disappointed he didn’t see his new ‘neighbour’. He puts on a cheerful smile - multiple people have told him his glare scared the crap out of them - and looks over at the customer, who’s tapping his foot against the floor.

“Sorry I took so long,” Phil gritts through his teeth, hoping he sounds polite. “What are you here for today, a tattoo or a piercing?”

 

* * * * * 

 

“God fucking dammit,” Phil mutters as he all but punches the coffee machine, the metal plates rattling against each other. All he wants is a cup of coffee at and now he feels like banging his head against the wall, because today isn’t going well at all. He sighs, turning away to stare out the window. The flower shop isn’t open yet  - there isn’t a sign of the owner at least, and the lights aren’t on - and he buries his head between his knees, done with everything. To make matters worse, he didn’t even see the florist yesterday, not that he’d admit he’s disappointed because he’s  _not_.

“Fucking finally,” he mumbles when the coffee machine gives a sign of life, signifying its loss and Phil has to resist the temptation to dance, because his daily battle with the coffee machine is over. He thrusts a mug under it, pressing the button and smiling when the smell of coffee fills his nose and his parlour. He’s thinking about getting a tattoo of it - coffee, he means - right under the roaring lion on his upper arm. It might not be the manliest thing ever, but he doesn’t mind.

He grabs the mug when the coffee machine stops rattling, smiling when it warms his freezing hands - it might be summer but his hands are always below zero degrees. The delight of finally getting to drink coffee melts away most of his previous annoyance, though he can’t shake the feeling that something’s missing. He opens his eyes, looking out over the mostly-deserted street, his attention immediately drawn to the shop across of him, the flowers seemingly jumping out. He has to admit, the new owner didn’t hold back when they told the painters to renovate the building.

The florist has yet to reveal themself and Phil’s stomach ties itself in knots with just thinking about seeing and meeting the owner. He frowns, endless possibilities flashing through his head - good and bad ones, though they’re mostly bad - and he sips at his coffee, his eyes scanning the street. The coffee burns his mouth and he hisses, swallowing it before blowing air over it. There really isn’t anything going right this morning. He brings the mug up to his lips again, testing the temperature first and then gulping it down. When he opens his eyes he spits it out again, drenching his shirt because _that guy can not be the florist are you fucking kidding me?_

That guy standing next to the flower shop has his back turned to Phil, but he can see him trying to open the door. He has a flower in his hand, a rose matching the colour of his sweater, and fuck who even wears fucking  _pastel_ and makes it look good? Phil absentmindedly scratches at the rose on his arm - a piece he himself designed - and thinks about going over to the florist to introduce himself. The guy does seem to have a little trouble with opening the door, his brown curls bouncing against his head as he pushes against the door which stubbornly holds on. Phil smiles, his first day went something like that too.

He ducks his head when the florist turns around, hoping he hadn’t seen him and  _goddammit_ , he hasn’t even met the guy and he’s already being a stalker. When he glances up through his lashes the guy is gone but Phil stares out the window, trying to catch another glimpse of the florist - to no avail. He turns back to the table, setting his now cold coffee down, and slaps himself, the red print on his cheek matching the rest of his face perfectly.

“Stupid,” he mutters, hoping he didn’t already ruin his reputation by making the florist want a restraining order, which certainly wouldn’t surprise him. The sudden tinkling of the bell distracts him, turning around to face a new potential client, when he catches sight of the florist over the client’s shoulder. He mumbles a distracted, ‘Welcome to my tattoo parlour, what can I do for you?’ as he continues to look at the florist who’s busy filling his shop with flowers, carrying the pots around. The guy places the rose he was carrying at the front and Phil smiles when he sees with how much care the guy handles it.

The florist looks up all of a sudden, his eyes shooting up to Phil’s, and Phil’s cheeks redden as the florist waves at him, a self-satisfied smirk on his face. _Damn_ , the guy’s attractive and  _damn_  why is he such a stalker.

“Excuse me sir?” the client asks. “Are you listening to me?”

Phil’s attention snaps back to the girl in front of him, smiling apologetically. He really should focus more - though that’s going to be hard when he has a cute guy working across of him. He mumbles a quick, ‘Of course I was,’ and drifts off again, wondering what he was going to do about the florist.

 

* * * * *

 

“So Phil,” Katie asks, “how is your life now that I’m not working across from you anymore? I imagine it’s rather difficult, seeing how much you depend on me.”

Phil glares at her, but she just stares blankly back at him, unimpressed. He averts his gaze to his feet, sighing softly. She’s right, after all. For some supposed ‘bad boy’, he depends an awful lot on his best friends.

“It’s not too bad actually,” he mumbles, keeping his gaze on the wooden panels and shifting his weight from one feet to another. He’s too easily flustered as well.

“Oh, it’s not too bad?” Katie teases. “Are you sure you aren’t just making that up?”

Phil looks up at her and glares again. She snorts, ruffling his hair. He pouts and smooths it down, his fingers trailing over his fringe.

“Yeah I am,” he smirks. “It’s not like I’d miss you anyway. You’re not  _that_ special.”

Katie smirks, her eyes shining. He backs away from her slowly as she walks towards him, shaking her hips. She reaches out with her hand, trailing over the swirls of ink on his arm, her fingers warm on his skin.

“Oh baby,” she jokes, winking at him, “you and I both know I am  _very_  special. I even proved it to you once.”

Phil smirks at her as she walks towards the front door of the shop, twirling her hair between her fingers. She comes to a halt in front of the window, intently gazing through it. Phil frowns, wondering what she could be looking at. She abruptly twirls back around and starts stalking towards him again and this time, Phil is really afraid.

“Would the reason your life’s ‘not too bad’ be the incredibly hot florist that owns the store?” Katie asks.

Phil looks over her shoulder, seeing Dan - as the postman told him the florist was called - walking outside, smiling brightly. He knew he shouldn’t have asked her to come over to the tattoo parlour. He turns his head to face her, ready to make an excuse, when Dan bends over to pick up some flower pots, his bum sticking up.

Phil swallows, because  _hot damn_  Katie wasn’t kidding when she said Dan was hot. Who even wears pants that sling that low? Phil doesn’t avert his eyes when Dan straightens up, instead focussing on Dan’s collar, the top two buttons open, revealing a sliver of skin and Phil really can’t look away right now.

Dan turns around, looking straight at him and he fights the flush threatening to creep up to his cheeks, desperate to prove Katie wrong but he fails miserably when Dan winks at him and bites his lip teasingly. Phil has to refrain himself from running away, scared because  _oh my god Dan just winked at me_ , and Katie’s still there, but he holds ground, not looking away from Dan, staring after his retreating form when he walks back into the flower shop - his eyes falling on Dan’s bum again.  

“Right,” Katie smirks, and Phil  _really_  doesn’t like the look in her eyes. “Totally not the florist.”

Phil’s cheeks redden, turning them the same colour as the sweaters Dan likes to wear, and he wants Katie to just leave because he wants sink through the floor. Katie just saw the guy wink at him, she saw Phil ogling his bum and she _knows_ now and when Katie knows something, there’s no way back.  

Phil turns around, promptly walking away from Katie to organise his needles for the millionth time, trying to avoid her prying into his business, but he knows she’ll eventually grab hold of him. He releases the breath he was holding when he hears the bell ring, knowing Katie has buggered off for now. He runs his hand over his face, feeling the snakebites and nosering bumping softly against his palm.

He’s going to fucking kill Katie.

 

* * * * *

 

“Let me back in!” he yells as he bangs his hand against the glass door, trying to convince Katie to open it. Katie just grins and waves, turning around and walking away to grab a cup of coffee. Inviting her in was bad enough, even more so since this was the third time this week, because of course he remembers what happened a few weeks back and he knows she hasn’t forgotten. It was only a matter of time before Katie took the initiative and bullied him into talking with Dan, but Phil really, _really_  doesn’t want to.

“Having trouble there neighbour?” someone behind him says, and now Phil just wants to run away and hide in a corner because he knows who’s standing there behind him, one corner of his mouth turned up and hand on his hip, with curls bouncing against his forehead, but he doesn’t want to look.

“Does it look like I’m having trouble?” Phil mutters, still not looking back because he is so not ready to face Dan. He lays his forehead against the glass, praying to any entity out there that he won’t have to turn around and look at Dan, otherwise he’s going to  _fucking lose_  it.

“Right,” Dan smirks, trailing off, and Phil can just imagine the way his eyes are twinkling - even though he’s never seen them up close - and he kind of wants to glance at them, but he doesn’t risk it. “Anyway, I should probably introduce myself,” Dan continues. “I’m Dan Howell, owner of ‘Hey There Delilahs’, and I’m guessing you own this tattoo parlour?”

Oh god, now he has to turn around because Dan’s introducing himself and he probably wants to shake Phil’s hand, which means Phil has to  _touch him_. He pushes himself off the glass door, his fingers leaving behind foggy prints, and he looks at the smirking figure standing behind him. Dan is biting on his cheek, one corner of his mouth turned up and a few curls brush over his eyes, and Phil wants to die right there because he has never seen someone so attractive before. He bites his lip again, swiping his tongue over the snakebites, and swallows, and he doesn’t realise he’s been staring at Dan until he coughs awkwardly, his outstretched hand shaking a bit.

“Sorry,” Phil blushes, “I was kind of lost in my thoughts. I’m Phil Lester, and indeed I do.” Phil grabs Dan’s hand and he nearly gasps, because Dan’s fingers are long and surprisingly soft - Phil thought carrying all those pots would create some callouses - and his palms are warm, a nice contrast to Phil’s freezing hands.

“You’ve got some beautiful roses there,” Phil mumbles as he drops Dan’s hand, his mind going into overdrive. He’s sure Katie has driven him mad with her innuendos, there is no other explanation for what he’s about to do. Dan raises an eyebrow, his eyes twinkling like Phil imagined them too and  _oh god_ this is not a good idea. “None of them compare to you though.”

Dan laughs, throwing his head back, and Phil makes a dash for the door - hoping Katie opened it when she saw them talking and luckily for him, she did. He slams the door behind him and slides down against it, burying his burning face in his hands.

This was  _not_  a good idea.

 

* * * * *

 

“You know you’re going to have to try again right?” Katie asks, poking his cheek. He sighs and turns his head away from her, preferring staring out the window over looking at Katie. He waves a dismissing hand in her direction, hoping she gets the message - knowing Katie, she doesn’t. “I’m not going to leave if that’s what you want from me. Now get that hand out of my face before you hit my glasses.”

Phil turns back to glare at her, just wanting her to  _fucking leave_ , because he just wants to wallow in his self-pity right now, and he isn’t in the mood for one of her pep talks because he always ends up getting scolded, and he really doesn’t want that. Katie just glares back mockingly, pouting to show that she’s not serious and Phil wants to hit his head against the window. Katie is insufferable.

“I’m not going to try again. Now leave,” Phil demands as he pushes against her shoulder, making her stumble backwards, her blond hair brushing against Phil’s wrist. She holds her ground though, refusing to let Phil bully her into leaving.

“Right casanova, you’re going to get out there and use your _obvious_  charm to make that pastel-wearing loser go on a date with you,” she orders, walking towards him and waving her finger in the air. “I won’t take no for answer this time. I’ll shut you out of your own appartement if I have to - and you know damn well I’m capable of that.”

Phil flinches, the last time that happened he slept on the pavement for two days. The cold stone was not comfortable, to say the least. Luckily for him that was in the summer, so he didn’t catch pneumonia - he came pretty damn close though. Katie smirks and puts her hands on her hips, leaning forward and _fucking hell_  Phil hates Katie because she’s not going to drop this.

“Fine,” Phil gives in, throwing his hands up in resignation. “If you insist that I make a fool of myself, I will. Just don’t blame me when I get a restraining order.”

“You won’t get a restraining order you melodramatic dipshit,” Katie sighs, rolling her eyes. “Now go out there and get him!” She grabs his arm, catching him off guard, and drags him to the exit, pushing him out the door. Phil lets her and shivers when the air hits his arms. The evening air is colder than he suspected. The streetlights reflect off of the tattoo parlour, the glare making it hard to look inside. He briefly considers going back and grabbing his jacket, but he knows he has to man up and just do it.

He listens to his footsteps echoing through the street, bouncing off the stone walls, just because he needs something real to occupy himself with, because this idea is  _mental_. He has absolutely no idea why he’s even thinking of doing this - then again, this isn’t really thinking, it’s more doing - and the butterflies in his stomach must’ve changed into fucking bees, because he’s fucking hurting but he knows he can’t go back right now. He’s almost at the glass door, raising a trembling hand to knock at it when he stops, looking at the sight in front of him.

Dan is bowed over a desk, reading something with his hand buried in his curls and Phil wants to replace Dan’s hand with his so bad and his nose is all crinkled up and he’s nibbling on his lips and  _god_  Phil has never seen anyone as pretty as Dan before. He sighs, torn between entering the building and doing something that could potentially end badly, or just leaving Dan there, because the florist just looks adorable when he’s concentrated.

Dan’s eyes abruptly shoot up, looking straight at him and he reddens, embarrassed at being caught staring but honestly he couldn’t help it, not when Dan was looking like  _that_. Dan smirks, slowly walking over to the entrance and Phil kind of wants to run away as fast as he can right now but he forces himself to stay put, the bees bouncing against his insides, trying to find a way out.

“Well Phil,” Dan grins, “come in. You don’t want to catch a cold now do you?” He opens the door, holding it open invitingly, but Phil really doesn’t trust the glint in his eyes but it makes Dan look more attractive than he already is and _fuck_  Phil can’t refuse anymore, that would just be rude.

He walks past Dan into the shop, his arm brushing against Dan’s chest on his way in, making it tingle, and smiles when he sees the pastel shades colouring the walls. The whole shop screams ‘Dan’ to him and he doesn’t even know the guy.

“So,” Dan smirks, leaning against the doorpost. “To what do I owe this visit?” Phil’s face is burning again, because he is so not ready to do this yet but he has to - Katie will kill him if he doesn’t. He looks at the wooden panels and shifts his weight from one foot to another, the floorboards creaking slightly.

“Actually,” Phil begins, “I was wondering if you- if you would- you know…” Fuck he’s nervous. This isn’t going well at all. He’s going to end up with a restraining order like he thought, because he’s a fucking creeper and there’s no way Dan’d be attracted to him, because he’s just Phil and Dan is so much better than him, and Dan looks so fucking good in pastel clothing, and then Phil’s just all piercings and tattoos and  _oh god_.

“No, I don’t know,” Dan grins, walking slowly towards Phil. “Enlighten me.” Phil swallows, his throat closing off because he can’t say that and Dan knows it, but he stills wants Phil to say it. He fucking hates Dan - he doesn’t, not really - and he doesn’t know why he’s doing is but  _fuck_  he gets reminded when his eyes trail down Dan’s approaching face, and he’s really getting too close now.

“Do I really have to spell it out for you?” Phil gasps, his breathing coming in short burstsd because he can feel Dan’s warmth and he can smell flowers everywhere and he can’t look anywhere but Dan. He can’t think like this. Dan’s eyes are boring into his, like endless pits swallowing him whole and he’s going to faint if Dan keeps this up.

“No, I’m sorry,” Dan says, scratching the back of his head, looking down at his feet. “I’m just an arse sometimes. But yes, I’d like to go on a date with you.” Phil’s face is fucking burning, but he doesn’t give a shit because Dan just said yes! He smiles, leaning forward and pressing his lips against Dan’s for a second, and then quickly moves away before he regrets it.

“Neat!” Phil says, dashing for the entrance - and did he really just say neat? Fucking hell he’s losing it. “See you tomorrow!”

He gasps when the cool air hits his face as he walks through the door, making a futile attempt at cooling his face down. The chilly night air can’t cool him down - he can’t believe he had the guts to do that! He turns around to wave at Dan, but all he sees is Dan staring dumbfoundedly at the wall, his fingers trailing over his lips.

“So Phil, was I right or was I right?” Katie’s voice asks from behind him and _fuck_  since when was she standing there? He turns around to face her, glaring at her because she was right and he wasn’t and that bothers him, and her smirk is everpresent. He beams at her - who knows, maybe he isn’t going to kill Katie after all.

**Author's Note:**

> this was also posted on my [tumblr](http://ninchuser.tumblr.com)


End file.
